


colors of the lake

by contraryrhythm



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 02:03:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contraryrhythm/pseuds/contraryrhythm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Callie tries to organize her photos before she is interrupted by her foster brother.</p>
<p>Brallie drabble-fluff, with a very season one sort of vibe (all hail the forbidden UST)!</p>
            </blockquote>





	colors of the lake

            She's working alone, quietly, laying out photographs on the table. She lets her fingers drift across the image of reeds beside a golden-blue lake, feeling the comfortingly smooth surface, imagining she's touching the water inside the static frame. Then her fingers clench into a fist, and she sighs. Her lips twist in almost comical frustration. There's no configuration that fits. No matter how she puts them together, they don't work together; the colors won't harmonize and the subjects won't cooperate. And _shit_ , one of them has a splotch of water on it—she must have spilled something. She grabs the photo and paws at it with a corner of her shirt, then replaces it. It still doesn't fit. Something's wrong. She bites her lip, eyes flickering across the array of photographs.

            It probably doesn't help that she's having trouble concentrating. It's not that she has a problem working alone. She usually does. But she knows that the others are outside together, and part of her wishes they'd ask her to join them. A small part. She stares at the grain of the wooden table and thinks of their faces. But no. It’s easier this way.

            As she reaches for a pale blue photograph of the sky, the door swings open and he walks in. She can't help feeling an overwhelming rush of happiness at seeing him, like all the colors of the images before her have suddenly swept into her heart and settled there. She's missed him.

            He smiles mischievously and sits down on the empty left side of the table. He has an expectant look about him, and at the same time she feels like he's reading her. Like he sees through her. Like always. She realizes abruptly that his t-shirt is soaking wet, and valiantly strives not to stare at his chest, or look at the way the water drips from his dark hair, or pay attention to the way her stomach flips when he smiles at her— _shit, not helping, Callie!_ _  
_

            “Watch where you're dripping. I’m so not retaking these,” she warns, ignoring the flush spreading across her face.

            “Come on, you're missing all the fun outside! We broke out the hose.”

            “Um, I can kind of tell.”

            He cocks his head to one side, examining the arrangement of photos in front of her. And although she tries to stay expressionless, a slight frown tilts her mouth downward and her eyes tighten, because she know it's not good enough.

            “How's it going?”

            “Eh,” she grunts noncommittally.

            A grin spreads across his face.

            “I think you need a hug.”

            Her eyes widen, but his smile is infectious, and merriment bubbles up within her even as she protests.

            “No way!” she says emphatically, half-getting up from the table as he does, laughing as she tries to dodge towards the door. But there's no way to go except past him, so she lets him catch her in a tight hug.

            “Gotcha!”

            “Brandon! I hate you.” She's still laughing, and so is he. She smacks him on the arm at first, but then her arms slide around him too and it's a close, sweet, somewhat damp embrace that she admits to herself she likes a lot. She lets her head rest on his shoulder and grumbles. “Fine. You win.”

            “You know you love me.”

            “Whatever,” she mumbles, shamelessly enjoying the feeling of his arms around her. Shamelessly, because she’s supposed to be like his sister, and she knows Lena and Stef wouldn’t be pleased to see their bodies locked this closely together. Then she really thinks of what would happen if someone walked in, and reluctantly pulls back from his warmth. He lingers near her for a moment, near enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek, then takes a step back.

            “I missed talking to you.”

            She smiles, a bittersweet curve. “You have no idea.”

            “Hey,” he says, still jokingly, but sensing layers beneath her reply. “I'm here now.”

            “I know.”

            He sprawls onto the couch and rests his head on his arm as she sits in the chair next to him, and he catches her hand and for some reason it feels perfectly natural to keep their fingers entwined like that on the edge of the cushion. It might be wrong, but at the same time it’s irresistible. The warmth of his fingers feels like happiness. It's like having another part of her she didn’t know she needed. And it just sucks like hell that it can’t stay like this.

            His eyes lock onto hers and her breath catches, because _damn it._ She’s a lost cause. Slowly he moves his thumb to stroke the back of her hand, his eyes not leaving hers. And although the logical part of her brain dreads the consequences, she can’t bring herself to break the contact.

            Then there's a shout outside, breaking into their world of two, and she pulls her hand away abruptly. Her forehead creases as she realizes what she did, and his expression is one of quickly concealed hurt, and she smiles uncomfortably, trying to cover the moment.

            “Just in case...” she trails off.

            “But it doesn’t—” he looks frustrated for a moment, but then he shrugs, and changes the subject. “It's ok. I really am glad I’m back.”

            She gives him a lopsided smile.

            “Me too.”

            As she smiles back and looks into his eyes, she sees the colors. His eyes are the hue of the lake. Suddenly she realizes how she'll put the photographs together. And she knows that somehow, it'll all fit together perfectly.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Not my best work, but I thought I'd post it anyway as my inaugural work on AO3. *throws confetti* Woooooo hope you enjoyed! Also, sorry if OOC, lol.


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